


used to stick together

by jaysflight



Series: dream smp shenanigans [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Alliances, Angst, Arson and Destruction, Broken Friendships, Gen, New L’Manberg, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, President Tubbo, Quackity is pissed, References to implied suicide, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, Trauma, Tubbo is sad and so is Tommy, Yelling, it’s nothing extreme but there are brief descriptions that could fit into that, no happy ending, sleepy bois inc - Freeform, these tags are a mess lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:08:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaysflight/pseuds/jaysflight
Summary: Tubbo’s focus is on L’Manberg, but maybe things can go back to normal if there’s no country to watch over anymore. Tommy gives the idea a shot.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Floris | Fundy, Tubbo & Tommyinnit
Series: dream smp shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079114
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	used to stick together

—  
The remains of New L’Manberg were still smouldering, embers of oranges and reds lighting up the descending darkness of the night. The smell of smoke and burning wood was near overwhelming, and despite the small group of people clustered around the borders of the country, the odour drove away any curious bystander who may have wanted to step foot inside the city.

Even so, Tubbo was there. Knees dug carelessly into the dirt, hands clutching the ash tinged grass almost desperately, his body shook. Besides him stood Quackity, and the young president could almost feel the anger emanating from the older, rolling off him in red hot waves, growing more and more acute as the seconds of shocked silence ticked by. Fundy was surely nearby, likely just as dumbfounded as they were, and he was sure he had spotted Ranboo earlier as well, mismatched eyes wide with fear.

Tubbo’s hold on the grass loosened, and the coil of emotions that had rendered him paralysed seemed to loosen as well while he breathed out shakily. His gaze was still fixed on the ruins of his once beautiful country. And then grief swept over him in one fell swoop, his hands shooting up to his face to muffle the sob that threatened to spill from his lips. Everything he had worked for, everything he had sacrificed to get to this point, had been taken from him thanks to the simple lighting of a small yet well placed fire.

Tears began to blur his vision as his frame continued to tremble, and even the comfort of a warm and understanding hand, newly placed on his shoulder, failed to calm the sadness that had overtaken his heart and mind. Even Quackity’s voice, low with barely masked rage, offering him quiet solace and guarantees of revenge, failed to distract him from the fact that what he was seeing before him was genuine, horrifying and irredeemable.

And the culprits of the crime were still here, standing a way’s behind him and his vice-president, their hushed talk inaudible from where he sat. But he hadn’t missed the satisfied glee on Technoblade’s features, lit up by the glowing light of the fire, as he watched destruction engulf the country of the government he had sworn to take down. Something in Tubbo’s gut twisted painfully as he recalled it.

As he removed his hands from his face, and let them fall to his thighs, he started to blink the tears from his vision. Moments passed with him silently staring at what lay before him, moments spent collecting himself, and eventually, he moved - his legs still shook somewhat as he pulled himself to his feet, but he managed to control them and regain his stance with minimal effort. Shifting tired blue eyes to the side, they encountered the tall figure of the fox hybrid, expression schooled into something neutral yet regretful, though Tubbo could pick out the confused mixture of emotions lingering in his eyes. Both their gazes met, and Fundy’s eyebrows dipped down into a frown for a few moments, before he suddenly reached out to pull the shorter boy into a rare hug. Tubbo tensed against the impromptu contact, but quickly relaxed and leaned into it, arms curling around the other’s back as he felt a familiar pressure build up behind his eyes once again.

“‘I’m so sorry, man.” Tubbo swallowed around the lump in his throat as he heard the fox’s soft tone, and closed his eyes, pressing his head against his chest. Then he breathed out, shaking it slightly as his fingers gripped the fabric of the taller’s jacket tighter. No, he wouldn’t cry, not now. Not now.

He felt the familiar pressure of Quackity’s hand return to his shoulder, and at that he pulled away from Fundy’s embrace, the hybrid letting him go easily. The vice-president’s grip had abruptly grown stronger, and his body, yellow wings fluffing up behind it in anger, was now turned away from Tubbo. His eyes were fixed on the trio of arsonists that lingered a little way’s off. The clasped fingers around his shoulder conveyed emotions that didn’t need to be expressed, spoke words that didn’t need to be heard out loud to be understood, and the president responded in turn, shifting his body to face them also. And as his own two eyes fell upon the figures, something in his gut twisted again, and if anything, grew more pronounced, defined, forming the beginnings of an emotion he did not experience often. However, he realised that this time, he almost welcomed the burgeoning anger.

A few seconds later he felt Fundy’s jacket brush against his side, and at the knowledge that he had the full support of his cabinet by his side, a small flower of relief bloomed in his chest, even as it was surrounded by an orchard of negativity.

They were standing at the base of one of the nearby hills, and in all truthfulness, Tubbo had no idea why they were still here when they should have left once the first house had taken flame. Maybe he would have guessed that they had remained to gloat, but even in the semi-darkness he could make out their cool, collected faces, void of any real joy at their victory. Only Techno could have been considered happy, especially if he took the wild expression of pleasure he had seen earlier into consideration, but currently the pig hybrid simply looked, at most, content. He was wearing a cloak, a cool blue hung over his signature blood red robes, and his sheathed sword hung by his side, partially visible underneath the long cape. And the sight of his once executioner, the hybrid who still plagued his nightmares, stood there calmly, patient and at ease, added a sense of sudden fear to the slowly growing ire pooling at the bottom of his stomach, mixing together in a horrible concoction of emotion. The blue and red of his outfit swirled together, reminded him of a terrible and terrifying moment of his life, pulled him away from the present, forcing him back into a memory he had been trying so hard to suppress-

“Technoblade.” Quackity spoke first, stepped forwards first, and it snapped Tubbo out of his panic. A sense of gratefulness flowed through him as his vice-president took charge. “You’ve gone too fucking far this time. Way too fucking far. People _lived_ here,” He gestured wildly to the ruins that laid behind them, wings spread out behind him, before returning his dark, seething gaze to the hybrid. “And you’ve burnt it all down to the ground! To fucking ash!”

Techno seemed to pause for a moment, before tipping his head to the side, and offering a slow, relaxed shrug. “I was in retirement, Quackity. I would have left you guys alone. But you’re the ones who decided to provoke me. So, all of this,” he nodded towards the wreckage, a calmer gesture to contrast the other’s. “Was inevitable. Besides, I’m not the only person at fault here.”

“Did you really expect us to _believe_ you’d go into retirement?” The vice-president practically spat. “We all know that’s just a bunch of bullshit, why the hell would _Technoblade_ of all people just fucking - stop? Especially after making multiple threats to our country and being a clear danger to us? Which, _by the fucking way_ , was a very valid concern considering what just happened!”

Arms pressed together almost lazily, Techno’s mouth formed a small smile. It wasn’t bloodthirsty or triumphant. He just looked fulfilled with what he had caused. “Whatever you think of me, or whatever you thought I could potentially do, you’re the one who kickstarted this by trying to execute me, and by threatening Phil. A few smart choices would have saved you from this situation.”

“Or, maybe, you shouldn’t have ‘setting fire to a whole city’ as your default reaction! You were brought in for war crimes, and you just ended up committing another one. How the fuck is any of that justified?!”

Technoblade barked out a short laugh. “And you think any of your actions can be justified, Quackity? You just want power - for your nation, sure, but mostly just for yourself.” Something close to amusement settled in his mahogany eyes. “And that power corrupts. What’s gone down here tonight could be considered drastic, but, in the long run, I think you’ll thank me for what we’ve done.”

Quackity’s eyes widened for a stunned moment, then sparked with that building rage he had in him, and he clenched his teeth together, free hand balling into a fist as the other’s grip tightened around his axe. He moved to step forwards, to unleash his anger through means of physical violence, but was stopped in his tracks by a hand on his shoulder - Tubbo’s, to be precise.

His blue eyes shone with exhaustion, bitterness and deep resentment, but also with a silent plea to back down, and as the vice-president’s wild gaze met his own, Tubbo watched the ferocity that shone there hit a wall, watched as his body froze in place. The boy remained silent as the other thought it over, weighing the options, wondering whether to be selfish or selfless - but the president knew he had won him over before their gazes had even crossed, and that was only confirmed when Quackity released the tight hold on his axe, the blade skimming the dirt as he let it hang loosely from his hand. His brown eyes were still bright with a grudge he desperately wanted to make good on, but they were beginning to turn dull with fatigue as his energy levels steadily began to fade. The president squeezed his shoulder softly, and, with a note of regret and a strange feeling of almost déjà-vu, spoke. “I’m sorry, Big Q. But as much as I want to as well, we can’t antagonise him now. We’re in no position for that.”

He watched Quackity pause, regret and the remnants of his wrath warring in his features, and then slowly nod, head hanging slightly once he did. “You’re right. You’re right.” was muttered quietly, and he stepped backwards, away from the other group. He wore a distant look, lips pressed together in reluctant resignation, and a few seconds passed before Fundy walked over to him, followed by a hesitant movement where he slung an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. The last thing Tubbo saw before turning to face the group that stood behind them waiting was Quackity gradually leaning into the hold, his golden wings pressed close to his body.

His gut squirmed as his eyes fell upon Techno’s imposing figure. He was silent for a moment, heartbeat loud in his ears, before he spoke.

“You need to leave, Technoblade.” Tubbo’s voice was quiet yet determined, insistence laced in his words. “I don’t even know why you’re still here.”

Movement from the figure on Technoblade’s right caused the boy’s attention to snap to it, and he felt his frown deepen as Phil stepped forwards, studying him deliberately. The green of his usual outfit had been swapped with blue, a short cloak similar to Techno’s draped over his shoulders. “We were going to leave immediately. Didn’t exactly want to stick around.” He paused, and then, almost cautiously, proceeded. “But... Tommy asked us to stay.”

Tubbo’s heart jumped into his throat, and he bit down hard on his lip. Carefully dragging his eyes away from Phil, he turned them towards the last remaining figure of the group, the one who had just stepped forwards. Tommy’s hands were clenched somewhat awkwardly by his side, and his face was full of hesitation and uncertainty. But, he managed a tiny smile. “Hey, Big Man.”

A mixture of relief and anguish erupted within him upon hearing the other’s voice, momentarily blocking out all other emotion, and he took a step back, eyes wavering as they stared at him. He had spotted Tommy earlier, back when the houses were just beginning to take fire, and had been convinced of a hallucination at first. But, as the reality of the situation crashed down upon him, pure joy had swept into him, because his best friend was alive, still walking this world, and they could finally be together again.

Then came the realisation that he was not alone, and accompanied by two people whose presence promised the end - and brought the end they did. Tubbo had watched as Techno egged on the fire, had seen Phil protect them from the heat, but he had also stared, much like he was now, as Tommy stood by them, flint and steel in hand.

Anger spilled from the cracks in his heart, dousing any happiness he may have felt.

Thinking back on it, Tubbo almost wished he had been a hallucination.

“I... it’s been a while, right? God, yeah, it has.” Tommy wrung his hands together nervously. “Haven’t seen you in a bit because... I couldn’t come visit, so that caused an issue, obviously, and, well, you didn’t come visit either, but... I’m here, now!” His smile grew a little bit wider, a little bit more genuine. “I-I know this is a pretty shitty situation,” Tubbo didn’t miss the way he winced when his eyes momentarily drifted from him to the wreckage behind him. “But... I felt like leaving without saying _anything_ was an even shittier thing to do. So, just... I’m really happy to see you again, man.”

Their eyes, blues of different hues, met and held contact. Tommy’s were regretful, maybe even a bit ashamed, but there was also hope there, hints of an optimistic outlook on things.

The silence that lay between them weighed heavy on the world, and Tubbo breathed out shakily.

“I thought you were dead.”

Tommy’s head snapped up at that, and his sharp blue eyes shone with alarm, features contorting into ones of surprise. “You... you did?”

“Yeah, I did. Because I did visit you, Tommy. I finally worked up the courage to go visit the person I exiled even though I thought he hated me, but was instead greeted by the tallest dirt tower I’ve ever seen, with no exiled person in sight. Guess what conclusion I came to.” His fingers curled in on themselves, hands becoming fists. “I thought you killed yourself. Because of the decision I made.”

Tommy’s mouth hung upon for a few moments, confused seconds ticking by, and he took an unconscious step back as he tried to form a response, all the while Tubbo’s gaze returned to the floor, vision beginning to blur. His heart was beating fast, almost painfully so, and he brought a hand up to his head, fingers digging into his hair as a humourless smile broke out over his face. He blinked once, twice, and felt wetness gather in the corner of his eyes.

“I cried for you, man.” He raised his head again abruptly, voice shaking ever so slightly, catching Tommy’s attention instantly. The younger’s expression was one of mounting panic, a realisation that he didn’t know how to respond to what was happening, but Tubbo found that, right now, he couldn’t care less. “I fucking _mourned_ for you, but now I know that it was all for nothing, because you were gallivanting around with Technoblade, planning arson, this whole time!” A choked laugh escaped his lips, and a single tear, the beginning of many, hit his cheek. “None of it mattered at all. None of this matters at all to you.”

“No, Tubbo, that’s not what I-,” he spluttered, digging a hand of his own into his hair out of anxious frustration. “I-I needed the help, to get the discs back, a-and to get back to you, and Techno wanted to-“

“So you thought destroying the place up would solve all that?!”

“No! Well, I, kinda-“

The fire that had set New L’Manberg ablaze had been efficacious and quick, conquering a good portion of the town in a matter of minutes, but the flame in Tubbo’s chest had been festering for so long now, growing hotter at every new problem he had to fix, every injustice he had to face, every terrible decision he had to make. As Tommy rambled on, Tubbo’s whole brain seemed to fill with white noise, thoughts slipping away, leaving room for only the raw emotion he had kept buried for the sake of logic and peace.

But tranquility was a foreign concept to those soaked in the blood of war and the uncertainty of chaos, so what could his attempts at peace ever truly amount to?

His hand fell from his hair, arm hanging by his side. The dirt below his feet had been trampled by skirmish upon skirmish, disagreements and disasters, pointless wars that, in the end, lead to nothing. Tubbo stared at it, expression hardening, ignoring the hot liquid sliding silently over his cheeks. His chest felt like it was about to burst, his throat strained from the effort of emotion.

“...Tubbo?” The 17 year old breathed in upon hearing Tommy’s voice, trembling as his face screwed up, his anger finally slipping out from hiding and onto his features. His lips curled into a cynical smile. He raised his head, and met his once best friend’s gaze head-on.

“Hey, remember when you said I was following in Schlatt’s footsteps?” He watched as Tommy blinked, something akin to consternation flooding his expression, but he continued before the other could speak up. “And I told you that if I couldn’t be the next Schlatt, you couldn’t be the next Wilbur?”

He could feel his heart start to splinter, and yet his mirthless smile widened into something that could be called frantic. As he spun on his feet, a hand flew out to gesture to the burning destruction. “Well congratu-fucking-lations!” Tubbo’s words slipped out in a near snarl, spitting the fire that burned inside his lungs. “You have spectacularly failed!”

His head snapped back towards Tommy, eyes gleaming with the violence of his temper, stepping forward as he pointed an accusatory finger his way. He refused to acknowledge the way the younger’s face was full of devastation, his eyes shining with shock and tinges of regret. “He did it first, but this time it’s your fault, Tommy. You didn’t need to do any of this.”

Pulling back his hand and leaving it close to his chest, he swallowed, feeling tears slip off from his face. “I shouldn’t have exiled you. I’ve regretted it ever since, and - and everything’s gone to shit after you left, I’ll be the first to admit it. And you can  
hate me for that. I... I would have understood.” His voice trailed off for a moment, before returning, louder than before as he surged forwards. “But you had _no_ fucking right to do what you did! You’ve _destroyed_ so many people’s homes! All of their hard work!”

Somewhere far behind them, some more of the city’s structure disintegrated, collapsing to the ground and agitating the few remaining flames. He heard Fundy’s low growl and Quackity’s resentful mutter as they presumably watched the scene unfold, unable to act - but Tubbo’s focus was all on Tommy, eyes intensely scrutinising the younger’s expression. He had been expecting the other to immediately refuse to acknowledge his words, had anticipated him shifting the blame as he always seemed to do, but to the president’s surprise, Tommy was quiet, eyes wide as he stared back at him.

“And I- I don’t know what you expect from me, after this.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, and then steadied his voice, tone shifting into something rock hard. “You should have left when the first building caught fire.”

The 16 year old’s mouth shot open for a retort, but he floundered, swallowing heavily instead as he shuffled his feet apprehensively. When he spoke, his voice was uneasy and soft, practically timid. “I thought... that if L’Manberg was gone, things could go back to how they used to be. With just the two of us.”

Seemingly on instinct, he stretched out a hand. Still, a baseless hope flickered in his expression. “We could still run away.”

Anger flared up in Tubbo again at that, bright and hot, and his eyes sparkled with the sudden intensity of it.

“Tommy, if you think I’m gonna give up on the country I _died_ for, you’ve properly lost it.” He snapped.

Tommy’s expression fell. Tubbo kept going, hand tugging at his hair.

“All I wanted was for us to live in peace! To be left alone, for once!” He blinked, breathing out. “But that was always gonna be impossible, wasn’t it?”

He paused, a noise of exasperation slipping from his lips, and he suddenly turned on his heel and spun around to face his New L’Manberg. The fire had nearly completely cooled by now, helped by the breeze, and only faint specks of oranges and reds glowed at the base of the houses. The president’s expression was unreadable as he observed the sight. Fundy and Quackity stood off to the side, watching him silently. Waiting for his words. His gaze shifted to them, stopping on them for a moment, thinking something over. And then he returned that gaze to Tommy, eyes exhausted but determined. His hand fell to his side.

“You all seem to think I’m the next Schlatt. And I could be him.” His mouth pressed itself into a thin, bitter line. “But I’m not. I never was.”

Silence took hold of the world again, near deafening.

“Tubbo, I.. I’m sorry.”

The 17 year old blinked as he spoke up, momentarily taken aback. The quiet sorrow that shone in his eyes was clear as day, making Tubbo’s heart crack a little more, pushing down the swirling fury just slightly - but then a frown overtook his features, and he stubbornly looked away, unwilling to face the other boy’s expression of defeat.

He knew what he was about to do was stupid, with the way his heartbeat increased in speed, but he did it anyway - he shifted his gaze to the side, letting it land squarely on Technoblade, speaking directly to him.

“I’ve already sacrificed two of my lives for this place. I don’t want it to take my last one, but I will lay it down if I have to.”

Techno remained silent at first, and Tubbo wished he could see past his neutral face, to know what the pig hybrid was really thinking. His blue eyes subtly shot to and back from the sword that still hung by his side, although the weapon he truly feared was nowhere in sight.

Eventually, however, he offered him a simple, slow nod. “I’m no fan of your government, but I can see that you stick up for what you believe in, Mr. President..” He then tipped his head to the side, and an almost apologetic smile appeared. “But so do I.”

Technoblade moved suddenly, and Tubbo took a small step backwards, although his face remained calm and collected. “So, don’t think this is over, because I’ll be back. But as for right now, I still have enough honour left to not attack a defenceless and unarmed man.”

From behind Tubbo, Fundy let out a subdued scoff. “But not enough honour to avoid arson, apparently.”

Techno raised his hands. “In my defence, I thought that would be enough to do it. Clearly not, though.” His mahogany eyes landed on him for a brief moment, and Tubbo thought he could pick out traces of begrudging respect there. However before he could be sure, the tall figure had turned, and had already started to walk away from L’Manberg, blue cloak swishing out behind him.

Reluctantly, Tubbo looked back towards Tommy. The latter’s expression seemed more composed than it was before, but he had known him too long to not see through the cracks of the mask he had put up. His heart clenched at the sight, and old urges suddenly bubbled up, the desire to comfort and calm his once best friend clawing its way to the surface. For a moment, he wanted to go back on everything he had said, to take Tommy up on his offer to let everything return to how it once was, and to run away together.

He pushed it all down.

“You need to leave,” he started, echoing a line spoken back up on the obsidian wall. “There’s nothing left for you here.”

He saw those final remnants of hope in the 16 year old’s eyes shatter, teeth clenching as he tried to hold back a flood of emotion, and he started to blink furiously. Then he finally nodded and Tommy took a few steps back, eyes still on Tubbo, before suddenly turning. He walked in Techno’s wake, and away from the president, shoulders hunched.

Phil lingered behind for a moment, eyes flicking between him and Fundy. Tubbo merely crossed his arms against his chest, feeling apathetic and hollow. The older man sighed, and shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry it had to come to this. Seriously.” He looked him directly in the eyes, and, try as he might, Tubbo couldn’t make himself look away. ”Take care, Tubbo.”

He tipped his head towards Fundy, and the fox hybrid’s eyes narrowed with consideration as Phil started to follow the other two, walking off silently into the night.

Soon enough, only the three of them remained. Tubbo felt Quackity’s hand find his shoulder again, felt the familiar brush of Fundy’s jacket against his side, and he breathed out deeply, finally allowing liquid to prick at the corner of his eyes as he shut them gently.

“You did good, Tubbo.” Quackity assured. “I’m really proud of you man.”

“And we’ll fix all this.” Fundy spoke up, placing a hand of his own on the younger’s free shoulder. “We’ll get strong, contact our allies, and be ready for when Techno decides to come back.” Tubbo could hear the small grin in his voice. “And we’ll beat his ass once and for all.”

Quackity gave a small laugh in response. “Yeah we will!”

Tubbo slowly screwed his eyes open, offering a wobbly smile that didn’t reach them in the slightest. Exhaustion weighed him down like a sack of rocks, and he blinked wearily, tuning out the conversation the two other members of his cabinet were beginning to have.

His gaze, despite itself, returned to the wooden pathway that the trio had used to leave the premises, and it searched the dark horizon, as if hoping to catch a final glimpse of someone that had left his heart shattered.

It never did.  
—

**Author's Note:**

> usual disclaimer: this is fiction involving characters, and is in no way supposed to represent the actual streamers themselves!
> 
> i finally got around to writing some tommy and tubbo angst, i hope it’s enjoyable! i started writing this before the 27/12 streams, so if there’s any small inaccuracies, that’s why
> 
> title is a lyric from “you get me so high” by the Neighbourhood


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